


sugar

by ggwynbleidd



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Choking, Clothed Sex, Creampie, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25419016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggwynbleidd/pseuds/ggwynbleidd
Summary: The Magnus Hammersmith guide to flirting: 1. Be handsy. 2. Provoke. 3. ???. 4. Profit.
Relationships: Magnus Hammersmith/Charles Foster Offdensen
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	sugar

**Author's Note:**

> i hope somebody enjoys this shameless and self-indulgent porn

The slack grin, the lazy way he walked into the office, how he talked so casually about nothing to keep Charles distracted. It was the calling card of someone too cocky, of someone who needed to be knocked down just a peg or two. As was the leering over his desk, hands splayed flat against the wood, Magnus trying to use the height he had on Offdensen to some kind of advantage. Especially as he leaned even closer and grabbed onto the red tie around Charles' neck.

"You know-" Magnus mused aloud. "-I wonder about you."

"How so?" Charles responded as he tugged his tie free. He was on his feet now, Magnus pacing after him like a cat.

“If you’re always so composed. If there’s anything that can make that demeanor break,” he purred lazily while he reached out again, to ruffle a few pomaded hairs out of place. “Make your toes curl, make you blush. That kinda shit.”

"Is that why you're here? To bother me about, well…" gesturing vaguely, Charles smoothed his hair into place. He grabbed Magnus' wrist as he reached out to touch something on him again. Not with his whole strength but with enough pressure to make Magnus' eyes widen with surprise. "About that sort of thing?"

"Maybe?" Magnus replied as he rolled his shoulders to straighten his back and stand at his full height. He had almost a good foot on Charles but that didn't mean anything. Higher from the ground, harder to fall.

Charles' grip on Magnus' wrist loosened and he moved to grab the front of Magnus’ jacket to yank him down to his level. The noise he made was an odd one, a wordless little exclamation that ended in a sigh. Magnus in turn reached out to unbutton Charles’ jacket but was stopped with a light slap to his knuckles.

“Do you need help keeping your hands to yourself?” offered Charles. He couldn’t help but smile when he was shot a devious look. “I take that as a yes.”

“I mean, I can do a lot of things with my hands behind my back. Other than, like, guitar obviously,” Magnus grinned as he spoke, the corners of his eyes folding into premature crow’s feet. “I do more than just bitch with this mouth after all.”

Nodding as he was talking, Charles pulled his tie off of his neck. He pressed Magnus’ arms behind his back, wrists together, and began to wrap the silk in a firm knot. He could hear Magnus’ breathing pick up just enough to be noticeable and another small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He reached and pulled him down to his level again, faces close together, their lips brushing together just enough to make a point. Magnus’ breath hitched in his chest and he made another noise as he was pushed into Charles’ desk chair.

“What’re you-” Magnus began in confusion but cut himself off with a laugh of triumph as Charles’ fingers began to work on his belt buckle. “Oh fuck yeah, man! God, I knew you were into this kind of freak shit, all the little suits are!”

He hiked his hips up to help Charles pull down his pants and boxers around his knees, staring down in excitement. Charles took a moment to take him in before gazing up at Magnus from under his eyelashes with a smirk. He opened his mouth and let his tongue glide across the underside of Magnus’ shaft, delighting in both the sudden twitch of the quickly hardening dick and the sharp intake of breath above him. He inhaled calmly through his nose and took in as much of Magnus as he could, producing another little hiss of pleasure from the guitarist.

Charles pressed his hands on the inside of hairy thighs to spread his legs further, taking in every sensation that he could. The heaviness against his tongue, the mild taste of skin, the distant smell of harsh store brand soap, the taste of metal from the ring fed through the head of Magnus’ cock. And of course, every little moan and gasp that he was drawing from Magnus as his head bobbed. His pants were undone soon enough and he was dragging his fingers over his own erection, looking up at Magnus to see him biting his lip in excitement.

“F-fuck,” he sputtered, laughing when Charles pushed on his hips to keep him in place. “Alright, alright. I’ll hold still.”

He did not, hips bucking in a way that made Charles pull back with a gag to stare at him. Magnus just smirked down with hooded eyes.

“Sorry,” he shrugged his shoulders with mock helplessness. “Guess you gotta, damn...I dunno. Spank me? Tell me I’m bad?”

“Don’t think I will,” Charles replied. He hummed in thought for a moment as he watched Magnus’ face fall in obvious disappointment. “You’re provoking me.”

“A lil’,” he snickered.

“I could just stop. Let you sit, get soft, start all over again. Do that a few times, or just bring you just close enough and then stopping. Whatever it takes to keep you behaving,” he mused as he ran a finger across Magnus’ skin.

“I’ll...I’ll behave,” the response was quick.

Charles smiled up at him again before taking a hand, wrapping it around Magnus’ cock and-

“Mr. Offdensen?” the tinny voice of his secretary piped through his desk. “Dethklok is here to see you, sir.”

The two of them looked at each other with wide eyes. Magnus mouthed “Oh, fuck,” before Charles was on his feet pressing the intercom.

"Give me one moment, please. thank you," his voice was still measured and calm, turning to Magnus to whisper. "Under the desk."

Magnus nodded and slid under the chair to awkwardly shuffle on his knees and tuck himself away. Charles fell into his chair and scooted it up until his feet were on either side of Magnus’ knees, not even bothering to button his pants in the panic.

“Alright, you can, ah, can send them in!” he said with his best attempt at sounding chipper.

The door opened and in shambled the boys. All of them looked half-asleep and hungover so fairly average for a Tuesday. Nathan and Pickles were the ones to sit at the chairs at the desk, Murderface and Skwisgaar opting to sit on the sofa and thumb through magazines.

“Where’s Magnus?” Nathan asked. Charles raised his eyebrows in confusion. “He said he was gonna stop by early.”

Of course he did. Charles just shook his head helplessly and Nathan thankfully didn’t press the issue. It was a smooth meeting after the initial hiccups, Pickles listening intently during talks of budgeting for upcoming shows while Nathan nodded along.

“We don’t exactly have money for a proper bus, but we can rent a van and a driver. The record label-” Charles stopped abruptly when he felt a tongue swirling around the head of his dick. He gently cleared his throat and continued. “-the label gave us a pretty strict budget since we effectively need to prove ourselves to them. I can see if I have it…”

He leaned down to search for the papers in the drawer, gaze falling on a pair of dark eyes peering out from between his legs at him. He cleared his throat again when Magnus’ lips wrapped around him fully and he sat up with the papers in hand.

“Here we go,” he said. He dug his heel pointedly against Magnus’ bare thigh as he set them on the table. “For you to peruse.”

Pickles was no stranger to what was in front of them and he was the one who started to pick through them. Charles politely coughed into his elbow as he felt the increasing swell of his arousal in Magnus’ mouth.

“So we ain’t getting shit, is what this is saying?” Pickles said hotly. He held up a hand as Charles opened his mouth. “I know it's not, like, a you thing. It’s frustratin’ though. We already had a good tour before signing with a label!”

“I understand. I really did try-” he cleared his throat again as Magnus pushed himself further down. “I tried my a-absolute best to negotiate with them and this is what they gave me after, uh, a few hours on the phone.”

“Thanks, man. I don’t wanna be a douchebag, but this is gonna suck,” he was gesturing with the papers now, Nathan trying and failing to make a grab for them. “Like, we’re gonna break our fuckin’ backs from this. Nathan especially. I can’t do that shit, Murderface and Skwisgaar are lazy fucks, Magnus looks like he’d break his back if he picked up more than five pounds-”

A vibration from an offended noise radiated from between Charles’ legs, up to his spine and into his brain. Charles covered the sound and his reaction as best as he would with another loud, pointed cough.

“You okay?” Nathan asked with sudden suspicion. “You’re coughin’ a lot. And sweaty.”

“I’m just hot,” the heel dug further into Magnus’ thigh when Charles felt the lips around him turn up into a smile.

“It’s...October?” replied Nathan. “You sick?”

“I am a little under the-the weather,” he waved his hand. “Cold season, you know how it is.”

“Well, shit. We don’t wanna keep you if you’re feelin’ bad, dude,” said Pickles sheepishly. “Want us to go ahead and head out?”

“I think the tour budget was our biggest concern, so I would appreciate it. Sorry, boys,” Charles pushed his glasses up his nose. “Thought I was doing better. Go and talk with Michelle and she’ll find a time to reschedule you if you have any more questions for later. Have a good one.”

Everyone stood with half-hearted waves and well wishes, filing out of the office and shutting the door with a click. Charles took in a deep, shaky breath and pushed back in his chair, Magnus’ lips making an obscene popping sound as they were pulled away from him.

“You,” he hissed. Magnus just grinned, quite pleased with himself. “Stand up.”

Magnus unfurled himself from under the desk with a penguin-like waddle before Charles grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him up. He was pressed into the desk now, jacket pulled down his shoulders and hanging at his elbows, pants around his ankles. And still hard.”

“Give me a hand?” Magnus said with a saccharine smile.

“No,” replied Charles as he ignored Magnus’ whine and reached for his locked desk drawer. The only thing inside was a bottle of whiskey, a few cigars and a fairly dusty bottle of lubricant.

“Humor me, then,” Magnus was peering at the drawer curiously. “What’s that for?”

Charles looked at him and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“You know what it’s for. Turn,” his voice was still calm and even, barely betraying the annoyance and arousal that had been coiling in him for longer than he liked.

But Magnus listened and turned, making a winded noise as he was shoved onto the top of the desk. Charles casually flicked the bottle open and let a few droplets fall between the crack of Magnus’ ass. He coated two fingers next and slipped them between the now sticky skin. And smiled at the low moan Magnus let out as he was penetrated.

“Fuck, Charlie-” Magnus words died in his throat as Charles’ free hand lightly slapped his ass. Enough to sting but not welt or even make the skin pink. A warning.

“Don’t call me that,” Charles replied coolly. “Ever.”

He wondered if that was going to be a new addition to the Magnus Hammersmith Lexicon of Things to Annoy Him With. It probably would. Though maybe he would behave seeing how he was already pink in the face and panting from Charles’ fingers alone.

“God-d-d-d-d, hurry up and fuck me,” Magnus pleaded.

There was a soft sigh as Charles removed his fingers and took more of the lube in his hand to slick his cock. Charles pressed the head against him at first to gauge for Magnus’ reactions. All Magnus provided was a frustrated, useless kick of his leg and a groan of annoyance at every microscopic thrust.

“Really, dude?!” Magnus snapped over his shoulder. “If you’re gonna do this you might as well-Jesus Christ!”

The yelp from the first full thrust, from Charles grabbing his hips and slamming into him, bounced off of the walls of the office. Charles was thankful to have no neighboring offices and a secretary who listened to her cassette player more often than not. 

“You know...I’ve wondered a few things about you,” Charles said softly, groping at the buttons of his smothering shirt to undo them. “If there’s anything that would make that cool, cocky rockstar persona break. Make you blush. Curl your toes.”

He grabbed a fistful of curls at the base of Magnus’ skull, pulling them until Magnus arched his back to alleviate the pressure Charles held onto the bound arms behind his back with his other hand to push and pull his body how he pleased. And Magnus was already a moaning mess under him, open-mouthed and panting harder.

“You just needed to be fucked is all,” Charles chuckled when he felt a weak nod. Magnus whined when Charles brought his hand down against his ass. This time it was hard enough to make his skin go red. “Have someone tell you what to do. Be in control. Right?”

“Yes-s-s,” Magnus hissed out his reply, pushing his hips back against Charles. “God please...please let my wrists go. Or just touch me or s-somethin’. I can’t...can’t cum from just-”

“What if I don’t want to do either?” Charles leaned forward and pressed his lips against Magnus’ ear. “Or, what if I don’t think you need to cum?”

“Fucking Christ, please,” another beg.

“What?” he ran his lips over the exposed skin of Magnus’ neck before biting where it met his shoulder. “Please what, Magnus?”

“Please let me cum,” the tone was uncharacteristically soft for the boisterous asshole who stormed into his office half-drunk demanding for his band to be managed. “Please let me...let me cum. Please, M-Mister Offdensen?”

Charles couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He was learning quickly and behaving so well. He reached around Magnus’ body and grabbed onto his cock to stroke it, drawing a dreamy sigh from the man under him.

“Thank you,” Magnus groaned, legs trembling under him. Charles let go of his hair and instead wrapped his fingers around Magnus’ throat. He felt a heavy pulse pounding, an Adam’s apple bob against his fingers as Magnus swallowed and then a nod. “Go on.”

His fingers constricted and Magnus let out a choked keening sound. Charles brought him closer to his chest and bit the soft, freckled skin of his shoulder. His teeth sank deeper and deeper, his tongue running over the increasingly sensitive mark, until suddenly Magnus tensed around him and froze.

“Fuck!” Magnus called out breathlessly, the hands bound behind his back grabbing at Charles’ shirt for something. “Fuckfuckfuck!”

His hips erratically pumped into Charles’ hand for a few short bursts, Charles feeling the throb and a sudden hot slickness that leaked between his fingers. His fingers unwound from Magnus’ throat and cock and he let him rest against the top of the desk. Magnus muttered something soft and inaudible as he did.

“Hm?” Charles asked. No response, just a glazed-over gaze, and a smile. He slapped Magnus’ ass again. “Speak up.”

“Nnh, th-thank you,” Magnus moaned.

“Anything for people who ask nicely,” he replied with a smirk and another spank. And another. And another. Until a visible handprint was forming and Magnus was a squirming wreck. Charles swallowed heavily as he felt heat grow in his stomach. He paused his stroking to start to pull out but Magnus’ hands fluttered to grab part of his shirt. “I’m about t-”

“Cum in me. S’fine,” was the slurred response.

Charles reared his head in surprise, considering, before shrugging to himself. Hands ran up to Magnus’ shoulders and grabbed firmly as Charles pulled him backward in time with the last of his thrusts. His own orgasm was quieter in comparison, just the sound of his breathing speeding up and softer moans, the groans and grunts from Magnus still being louder.

“God,” Charles mumbled. He was struggling with the urge to just slump across Magnus’ back and sleep. He reached and tugged the tie from Magnus’ wrists loose before pulling away to sit in his chair.

Magnus made a soft noise and Charles watched as he slid off the desk into the floor. It was almost like he was mimicking the mess running down his legs.

“That was fun,” Magnus said over his shoulder as he shrugged on his jacket. “Question for you.”

“Hm?” Charles replied hazily.

“You fuck me from behind so I couldn’t see you lose your cool?” it was a jeer that made Charles toss his head back in frustration. “I take that as a yes.”

“Will you pull your pants up and get out?” he replied as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Magnus was chuckling to himself as he stood and clicked his belt buckle with shaking hands. He looked at the top of the desk at the crushed and scattered papers and cocked his head curiously.

“This is okay, I don’t know what the fuck Pickles was bitching about. Spoiled ass,” he turned to Charles and shrugged. “Seems you did pretty good by us.”

“Oh, uh, th-thank you,” Charles stammered after blinking in confusion.

“No problem. Later, man,” Magnus flicked two fingers in the air in a lazy salute before he left.

“Mr. Offdensen?” the voice broke Charles from his thoughts. “Dethklok is here to see you, sir.”

Charles cleared his throat and straightened himself up, adjusting his tie nervously.

“Send them in, please,” he said over the intercom.

Five figures shambled in into the office, Nathan and Pickles sitting at the chairs in front of the desk while Skwisgaar, Murderface and Magnus sat on the sofas and muttered to each other.

“Alright, boys. Let’s talk about getting this-this demo cut,” Charles tried to speak in his most chipper voice, eyes wandering to the back of the room. Dark eyes locked with his and Magnus’ lip curled into an annoyed sneer, Charles feeling a sweat break out on his neck as he looked back at Pickles. “Do you guys have a few good songs set aside for something like that?”


End file.
